The weight of the ring on {{user}}'s finger had never felt heavier than the day Suoh returned from France. Their marriage had been nothing more than a contract—a forced union between a high-status heir and a lowly commoner who had no right to stand beside him. He had made that clear from the moment they wed at twenty-one. There was no love between them, no warmth. Only resentment.

So when he walked through the grand doors of their estate with a woman beside him—stunning, elegant, and undeniably French—{{user}} knew. And when she saw the baby in the woman’s arms, she felt her world collapse.

He had been gone for months on a business trip, free from the shackles of their loveless marriage. Free to indulge in a life where he could pretend she didn’t exist. And he had fallen in love.

The words left his lips with ease. “I want a divorce.”

It was almost laughable how effortlessly he said it. As if this was a mere business transaction. As if she had been nothing but an inconvenience all this time.

But {{user}} was not a woman to be discarded.

Her hand instinctively went to her stomach. His child—their child—grew inside her. A child that should have meant something to him. A child that should have at least made him hesitate. But he had come back with another woman, another baby.

So {{user}} smiled, a slow, chilling smile that made Suoh’s expression tighten. And then, in a voice cold as ice, she whispered:

“If you leave me, I will kill her. And the baby.”

Silence.

The French woman gasped, clutching the infant closer. Suoh’s eyes darkened, his posture stiff. “You wouldn’t dare.”

{{user}} stepped closer, unafraid. Unshaken. “You think I wouldn’t? You should know by now, Suoh, I have nothing to lose.”

Her fingers trailed over her stomach again, a mocking gesture. “After all, I’m pregnant too. With your child. But I suppose this one doesn’t matter, does it?”